


The Care and Keeping of Your New Werewolf Family

by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)



Series: Empathy, Empathy, Put Yourself in the Place of Me [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Child Stiles, Empath Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Gen, Give Derek a Hug 2k18, Peter needs to watch more made for TV movies, ain't nobody dope as me I'm wrote so fluff and clean, okay I'm done with that, so fluff, so fluff and so clean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyofthekids/pseuds/twothumbsandnostakeincanon
Summary: So it turns out that taking care of werewolves isn't quite the same as taking care of humans





	The Care and Keeping of Your New Werewolf Family

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh this whole thing exists because the scene with Cora popped into my head and I n e e d e d it. There's not really any relevant plot, it's just... stuff. Stiles bein' an empath. Hales bein' werewolves. Stuff.

Here’s… 

Here’s the thing.

Stiles loves the Hales.

It’s only been three weeks since Stiles held the necklace, but Stiles has been folded into the Hale pack like a warm stack of laundry.

Stiles loves doing the laundry, it’s an apt metaphor, alright?

Anyway, Stiles loves the Hales, and Stiles takes care of the people he loves.

Only it turns out that taking care of werewolves isn’t quite the same as taking care of humans.

* * *

 _SLAP-_ “NO!” Stiles had a horrified look on his face, staring at the food he’d just knocked on the ground. The ground from _whence it had come_.

Cora stared at Stiles. “What is your problem?” she asked incredulously.

“You just… you just picked it up from the dirt! Who knows how long it’s been sitting there!! Oh my god Cora, it’s probably covered with strep bacteria!” Stiles was so distressed. Cora had genuinely been ready to actually eat it.

Cora gave him a puzzled look. “You know I can’t catch anything, right? Even if it was covered in strep, I wouldn’t get sick. If it was moldy or something else that would make it taste bad, I’d smell it. It’s fine, it probably just fell out of someone’s backpack earlier, and I’m starving.” She reached down to pick it up again, but Stiles quickly kicked it away from her.

“I can’t believe- no. I don’t care. You can _not_ eat that, Cora.” He started digging around in his pockets until he pulled out a protein bar. “Eat this. The five second rule isn’t even a good idea for humans, I’m not going to watch you- there’s no such thing as a six hour rule for werewolves. You can’t eat food you find on the ground,” he said firmly.

Cora looked at him through squinted eyes, as if she didn’t really believe him, but also didn’t really understand. She shrugged, took the protein bar from Stiles and ate it.

As long as she wasn’t hungry anymore, whatever.

* * *

Grocery shopping isn’t Stiles’ favorite thing, but that’s mostly because he has to walk over a mile there, do the shopping, and then carry the bags back to the house.

Milk gets _heavy_ , okay?

But if Savage Grandma (whose name is actually Pamela but refused to answer to anything else after she heard Stiles say “Savage Grandma is the _coolest”_ ) wants his help at the grocery store, then by god Stiles is going to go help.

Although once they arrived, it became unclear exactly what Stiles was there to help with.

He wasn’t there to get things off the top shelf, because Savage Grandma was taller than him. He wasn’t there to consult on the type of groceries to get, because they had to work off a carefully curated list that Joseph had given them. He definitely wasn’t there to help carry grocery bags, because Savage Grandma could single handedly beat every person in the store in guerilla combat- she certainly didn’t need his help with a frozen turkey.

It didn’t become clear how he could help until they were approaching the checkout.  
  
Savage Grandma leaned over and nodded in the direction of the grey haired man at the register before whispering, “I think Duncan over there has been thinking vulgar things about me. Before I do anything about it, I just want to be sure. Could you listen in on him?”

Stiles nodded seriously and tuned into Duncan while he carried out the inane daily small talk required of every customer service job.

Holy _shit_ , Grandma was not wrong. Stiles was used to feeling all kinds of desires from people, but this guy definitely cut into the top twenty percent. There was a shy sort of infatuation layered over the blatant craving, but Stiles never would have known either from his outward behavior. He wondered how Savage Grandma had guessed.

On their way out to the parking lot, she nudged him. “Well?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. He’s definitely got a thing for you. I don’t think he’s going to do anything, like, untoward? But if you’re worried, we can go to the station and-”

“Absolutely not, I just wanted to make sure he’ll be worth my time when I take him out for a weekend.” Savage Grandma grinned happily and started loading the groceries into the trunk, six bags at a time.

“Did I just help you get a date?” Stiles asked, stunned. “A _weekend-long_ date?”

“Please, I would have gotten the date without you,” she scoffed. “You just helped settle my nerves is all.”

Stiles considered that. Well.

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Any man would be lucky to have you, Savage Grandma.”

“You’re too sweet,” she said fondly. “Get in the car, Will Graham, we have frozens.”

* * *

Stiles didn’t see much of Derek. Derek spent pretty much all of his time in school, therapy, and his room.

He saw the rest of the Hales all the time. They were a cozy bunch; always in each other’s space, touching, snuggling, etcetera. Once Stiles started coming around, they did the same with him.

In the beginning, it was a little overwhelming. His dad wasn’t exactly a cuddly teddy bear, and while Scott was generous with his bro hugs, they were nowhere near on the same level as what the Hales initiated.

It only took a week or so for him to decide that he _loved_ it, especially after Talia explained that it was basically their way of stamping him with a “Hale Family Member” label.

“We can stop,” she offered, a concerned furrow in her brow. “Werewolves need a lot of touch to thrive, but humans don’t need quite as much. Sometimes humans can be oversaturated in touch, causing an aversion to it. The last thing we want is to chase you away, Stiles.”

Stiles warmed at the thought of the Hales declaring him one of their own. He didn’t feel oversaturated. In fact, he felt a little like he’d just added a new color to his world. He hadn’t exactly felt the absence of anything before, but now that he had werewolf snuggles available 24/7 he couldn’t imagine living without it.

In the weeks after that, Stiles noticed a considerable uptick in tension and misery from Derek and worry from other family members the few times Derek was in the room.

Stiles had expected the tension to go down after Kate’s arrest. He didn’t quite understand what was going on.

Maybe Derek needed more touch? Was it like, a food group for werewolves? Was this a werewolf Vitamin Hug deficiency? Maybe he needed extra with all the stress?

Stiles was deep in thoughts like these while Cora buried him and Scott on Rainbow Road, when Derek passed through the living room on his way upstairs.

Abruptly deciding he was probably right, Stiles jumped up and called out “Derek, wait!” He ran right up without another word and proceeded to hug the shit out of him.

He squeezed tightly, and for a moment Derek was stiff as a board, before he melted into it and hugged right back. They stood there for a minute, until Stiles heard Scott yell “HA I WON!!”

Stiles pulled back a bit to look over, and saw Cora staring stunned at them, controller loose in her hands. Derek stiffened suddenly again, and tore himself away to hurry upstairs. Stiles frowned after him, and then looked at Cora questioningly.

“He hasn’t let any of us touch him since the Bitch Supreme got arrested,” Cora said, still staring after her brother.

Stiles was flabbergasted. “What?”

“I listened in on the phone calls from his therapist,” Cora said shamelessly. “His therapist thinks he’s basically punishing himself for putting us in danger. It’s… everyone’s really worried. Wolves that pull away from their pack don’t survive.”

Stiles stood there with his mouth open, and then turned on his heel to chase after Derek.

He banged open the door to Derek’s room, stomping in to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.

“Are you trying to die of a Vitamin Hug deficiency?” Stiles demanded.

Derek’s devastated expression changed to one of confusion.

“Listen dude, I get that you’re not _actively_ suicidal,” Derek’s expression changed from confusion to one of shock, “but we’re going to nip that passive shit right in the bud, alright? If touch avoidance is your way of expressing guilt or whatever, then okay, work through it with your therapist, but if you’re going to do that with everyone else then you have to at least snuggle me until you’re ready to accept that it’s not your fault that Kate’s a violent sociopath.” Stiles folded his arms and looked at Derek defiantly.

“He’s right,” came Peter’s voice from behind Stiles. He jumped, and turned a scowl in his direction. Peter didn’t see, though. He was looking seriously at Derek.

“It’s like I’ve been telling you, Derek,” he said, voice unusually gentle. “You need to pick at least one person in the pack for contact. If Stiles is offering, he would be a good choice. He wasn’t a pack member before, so he was never in danger from Kate.”

Derek looked carefully between the two; Stiles’ determined expression and Peter’s calm, yet expectant one.

He slowly nodded.

And that’s how Stiles got two members of the Hale family to call him “Admiral Cuddles of the Huggington fleet.” It was Savage Grandma and Joseph who called him that, of course. No one else would even consider it.

Derek more or less constantly hovered in Stiles’ space until Kate’s sentencing, when something seemed to break through for him and he slowly allowed himself to be pulled back in by the rest of the pack too.

He still always had a free arm for Stiles, though.

* * *

“ _Dude_ ,” Stiles said as he came into the Hale library.

Peter’s usually impeccably coiffed hair was mussed, his left eye was twitching, and he did not have patience for _anyone_ today.

He wordlessly snarled at Stiles who held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I just wanted to see who was in here with their panties in a twist. Because dude, you are radiating twisted panties at least twenty yards down the road.” Stiles, somehow not catching a clue from Peter’s constant low grade growl, continued into the room to peek into the stacks of books that were piled on the work table.

“Stay away from those, and don’t call me dude,” Peter snapped.

“Kitsune?” Stiles asked curiously.

“It’s not a kitsune.” Peter tried to ignore him.

“What’s not a kitsune?”

“ _Stiles,_ ” Peter practically pleaded.

“Just talk it through with me,” Stiles suggested. “Trust me, what you’re feeling right now? No one’s ever solved a problem while feeling that frustrated. Just take a three minute break and tell me what you’re doing.”

Peter looked at him exasperatedly. He probably wouldn’t go away until Peter explained anyway, damn it.

He heaved a sigh worthy of Eurus, and started.

“A pack from Louisiana hired me to find out what the source of their problem is. Some… creature, probably, has been dissolving busses with acid. Something is causing electrical surges as well, but there’s no guarantee the two are related. I just can’t find it,” he heaved another sigh and ran his hand through his hair again. “Is it native? Is it an illegal import? Is it even a species, or is it a witch’s experiment that got loose?”

Stiles hummed.

“Busses, huh? School busses?”

“Yes,” Peter answered distractedly, still racking his brain.

“It’s a Mongolian Death Worm.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Peter. It’s-” Stiles sighed and poked through the books until he found one with the relevant information. He slammed it down in front of Peter.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Peter yelped.

“It’s a Mongolian Death Worm. Extremely corrosive acid, emits jolts of electricity, fond of the color yellow: Mongolian Death Worm. More popularly known as the inspiration for the movie _Tremors_.”

Peter stared at the illustration of the bright red, sausage shaped worm.

“How in god’s name did you know about this?” he asked in a faint voice.

Stiles shrugged.

“ _Tremors_ is a great movie.” 

“No it’s not, it’s a horrible movie.”

Stiles looked terribly offended. “Ex- _cuse_ me, what do you have against cinematic perfection? Is it jealousy? You must be jealous. And even if it _weren’t_ a beautiful artistic experience, it still saved your ass just now, so be grateful.

Peter continued to stare at the book as Stiles walked out of the room.

“Hey!” he called after him. “What looks like a giant otter, but with white fur and a taste for human flesh?”

“I don’t know dude, my knowledge pretty much starts and ends with movies that have five direct to video sequels,” Stiles yelled back as he walked down the hall.

* * *

So Stiles had to adjust a little, but he did so gladly, because he loves the Hales.

And Stiles will always take care of the people he loves. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, look at that abrupt ending, it's almost like I didn't plan this out at all and just mushed together some handfuls of words and then falsely offered it up like a respectable piece of work haha weird ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ


End file.
